


Fragments of Light

by hell0fr1end



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:53:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hell0fr1end/pseuds/hell0fr1end
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elliot's best friends with a poet. What more could you want?<br/>A better summary to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragments of Light

"Elliot, let's go!"

I stood at the end of his shitty apartment, beginning to pace. I heard his door open and close as he shuffled over, hands buried in his hoodie pockets.

"I'm here." he said monotonously, his usual tone of voice.

"Just take your sweet time, huh? We're already late.."

He read my face and looked at my directly, pulling himself out of his head and reached for me, if only slightly.

"Hey, don't be nervous. You're gonna kill it."

A small smile crept up my face at his gesture, and I stopped myself from taking his hand.

"If it doesn't kill _me_ first. Come on," I turned as we exited the complex, "we don't need to miss the train."

\--

My first book of poetry was being published, and Elliot was the only friend of mine who knew I even wrote, so it seemed appropriate that he celebrate the win with me. Normally we'd stay in, order some Chinese food from next door, and maybe smoke a little, since we both felt more comfortable at home. But tonight was a small book signing and Elliot told me he'd be there, even if he was just lurking in the back corner of the store away from everyone else. The night progressed as people came and went, offering small talk and praise about my words, putting me into a small stage of shock and disbelief. Eventually the store died down to a few late night wanders here and there, when Elliot finally approached. I had been nervously watching him from a distance the whole evening, but now his sudden closeness calmed me and I closed the gap between us, all if not too close. He smiled his famous half smile and picked up a copy of my book on the table. Flipping it over to read the biography, I watched as he dug out a $20 and handed it to me. My brow furrowed, "what are you doing?"

He pushed the bill into my slack hand, "I'm buying your book."

"You don't have to do that, Elliot," I half laughed, confused. "I told you I'd give you a copy for free."

"But what kind of friend would I be if I didn't buy this," he quoted, "new and refreshing" book of poetry my best friend just published?"

I sighed in disagreement, yet admiration that he actually wanted to buy it.

"Fine, but I'm using this $20 to buy us some dinner. I'm starving. Let's head back to your place?"

He nodded, my book awkwardly tucked into his jacket pocket, as we turned to leave the store.

\--

We laid sprawled out on his mattress, Chinese food boxes littering the floor. A now full stomach and an excitingly long day had me desperately trying to stay awake. In my attempt, I lazily scrolled through my phone when I noticed Elliot pick up my book and flip through the pages. I turned my full attention to him without his notice as he read from it. My face suddenly grew hot at the realization of my most personal thoughts and feelings are now in the hands of my best friend, that I had laid myself bare to not only him, but to everyone who bought a copy. Elliot looked over and caught me staring, in which I quickly hid my face.

"Hey, these are pretty good." He continued to read.

"You're just saying that cause I'd probably cry if you didn't.."

He tore his eyes from the page and looked at me ludicrously, thinking I was serious.

"I'm just kidding." I laughed.

I could see his body relax at the statement and he went back to reading. I enjoyed our time like this together. Me doing my own thing and him doing his, but us together. I turned my phone screen off and laid my head in my arms, I really needed to get back to my own place before I fell asleep..

"I think this one's my favorite so far." I must have drifted off, because his sudden voice made me jump.

I cleared my throat in pretend that I hadn’t. "Which one?"

""Listen"." I had a thousand and one titles run through my head at once and I couldn't remember which one that one was about.

"Oh yeah? Why so?"

He changed positions from laying long ways across his bed to laying in his normal spot against the headboard, with me still scrunched up in the middle.

"I'm not sure, I just really like the line " _we will find each other in the darkest of rooms, golden fragments of light burn bright from inside us_ "."

My skin suddenly covered in goose bumps, my heart picking up pace. Not only was his reading voice deep and calming, but he was reading aloud my poem. A poem I had undoubtedly written with him in mind. Elliot was unaware of my feelings towards him, and I had planned on keeping it that way, but I completely forgot that that poem was even in the book, let alone that he would pick it out of all the others to like.

"Cheyenne?"

I snapped back to reality and blushed, "I'm glad you like it. It's one of my favorites too."

The air felt electric afterwards, thick with personal information neither of us had ever really shared out loud. All of these new realizations and feelings exhausted me even more, and I found myself on the brink of passing out. I rolled onto my side, my back away from Elliot, and drifted in and out of consciousness. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I could feel him move around, putting the book down onto the floor and removing his shirt as he climbed under the covers, turning his bedside lamp off. The sudden dark and new found body heat pulled me even further into sleep, yet I heard a quiet voice from over my shoulder whisper something I wasn't quite sure I was supposed to hear.

"Have you ever written anything about me?"

My heart began to pound again and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to turn to him, to relish in his warm skin and smell, tell him yes, yes I have. But instead, I painfully ignored his question, and proceeded to drift off.


End file.
